


Kherumel

by applepieisworthit (orphan_account), flamesburnonthemountainside (orphan_account)



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dáin reveals the deepest part of his soul to his parents, dark name, in the halls, kherumel, post-death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 12:39:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4919905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/applepieisworthit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/flamesburnonthemountainside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I am Dáin II Ironfoot, Khathuzhâl, the Endurer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kherumel

**Author's Note:**

  * For [determamfidd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/determamfidd/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Sansûkh](https://archiveofourown.org/works/855528) by [determamfidd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/determamfidd/pseuds/determamfidd). 



> For, as always, the beautiful and wonderful Dets. and written for #khazad october on Tumblr

Dáin has spent most of his time in the halls so far getting to know his parents. They died nearly forty years before he came of age and, though they had watched him in the subsequent 220 years, he had not had the same opportunity.

He has vague memories of his first thirty years with his parents, though most of these are dominated by horrifying stories of what his cousins were suffering through. He can barely recall the touch of his mother’s warm hand against his face or the scent that surrounded him when she hugged him to her breast, nor can he properly evoke his father’s gruff voice and sturdy frame from all that time ago, but now he doesn’t need to try. 

He is with them now, finally. He can rest after his long and arduous life. It has been hard, getting to learn who is parents are, especially after having gone through so much without them. 

Every day brings with it a new challenge. They know him, and they know his likes and his dislikes, his routines, everything, from watching him for over 200 years. Yet he knows nothing about them, his parents, and they are strangers to him, or were at least. Slowly he is getting to know them, getting to learn who they are as people and how they fit in his heart and his life and it is healing some of him.

There will always be the sting of growing up without them there, growing up too early, but it is starting, slowly, to be overshadowed by the love and support he is suddenly getting from people he has never had it before.

He makes the decision when his son finds out about Bomfrís’ pregnancy. He knows his parents almost as well as they know him now, but there is one thing that they don’t know about him, one thing that only one person, save Mahal, has ever found out. His beloved Thira, but he trusts them now, he knows his parents and he wants to give them this part of himself, the part that defined many of the decisions he made in life.

His Kherumel. His dark name. The word that encompasses his soul.

He sits them down in his room, the door shut firmly. He is barely controlling his nervous twitching, this is something he wants to do but it is also something he has only done once in his life. He had planned to tell his son… but oh well, the chance has gone now, and he must wait for The Stonehelm to join him in the halls.

His hands shake as he paces back and forth in front of his parents. It is Daerís who stops him, her hand resting lightly on his wrist.

“Dáin, azyûng, what is it?” Dáin stares at her sword calloused hand and follows her scarred arm up to the shoulder and then looks into her eyes. There is concern shining through and she exchanges a short worried look with her husband before pulling her son closer. “Are you okay? Dáin, you’re worrying me.”

“Dáin, son. Whatever you need to say, just say it. You're safe with us inûdoy.” Náin has stood from his seat and his large hands rest comfortably on Dáin’s shoulders.

“I know da. It’s just… I’ve only ever told one person this.” Náin still looks bemused and slightly worried but there is a sharp intake of breath behind him and his mother, who has just risen, collapses back into her chair in shock, her eyes wide. Dáin spins around and takes her outstretched hands in his.

“Are you sure Dáin? It’s such a big step ghivasha, we understand if you want to wait longer.” Náin is now standing off to the side, the perpetual confused Durin look plastered on his face.

“I am ‘amad. I want you to know all of me, why I made many of the decisions I made.” Dáin pulls his hands away from Daerís’ and paces up and down a few times again in front of his confused father and his, already slightly teary, mother.

“Will someone tell me what is going on?!” Náin crosses his thick arms over his chest and switches his glare between his wife and son. Daerís shushes him and directs him to take a seat, Náin refuses and switches his intense look to his son. Dáin shifts slightly, takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders.

“I am Dáin II Ironfoot, Khathuzhâl, the Endurer. It is nice to meet you.” Daerís sniffles lightly and a large grin shines out from her face, she gently takes Dáin’s hands in hers and presses a light kiss to each.

“It is wonderful to know all of you my inûdoy. My nidoy. Oh my brave Khathuzhâl.”

There is a thump. Startled Dáin and Daerís turn from smiling through tears at each other to look at the still form of Náin. Daerís lets out a hearty chuckle and Dáin buries his head in his hands in disbelief.

It takes a few minutes to wake his father up from the faint and when they finally do Náin jumps up and grasps his son tight. Tears are flowing freely down his face and a grin is splitting his cheeks.

“You. My son. It is an honour to know you fully.”

The tears turn sad as Daerís and Náin contemplate just why their son is ‘the Endurer’ and many words and heartfelt tears are exchanged between the small family as both of his parents reveal their dark names, their Kherumels to him.


End file.
